


Reincarnation

by Nalyra



Series: A blackish red hue [13]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Murder Husbands, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:52:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8452414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: In order to start a new life, reincarnation is needed.And sometimes, things just work out differently, especially if you come full circle.___________________"Season finale" of the series, fitting in pt 13 (though unplanned, I swear^^)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Scene continuing directly from ["Betrayal"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8126653)

There is a brief silence, the various energies in the room converging, reforming, sizzling. Her tone is icy and yet flat, resigned.

„What guests might that be?“

Will clicks his tongue, tone amused.

„Well, family, of course.“

Bedelia huffs a laugh, managing even to make a small sound as that seem utterly sarcastic. She pushes herself up, reaching for the cane, considering it for a moment, still poised so perfectly.

„May I choose a sedative?“

Will tilts his head, watching Hannibal traverse the room, looking at the various items of furniture, seemingly neutral. Fidgety, for Hannibal. Will hums, somewhat annoyed and considers, before answering.

„A lethal one you mean? We will see.“

Hannibal chimes in, his tone a tiny bit forcibly amused and yet deliberating, a cold condescendence coloring it, sending shivers down Wills spine.

„No injection this time, Bedelia. There has been a deal made, for you.“

Will turns to him, confused, but waiting, more than slightly annoyed at being kept in the dark about something, again. His expression darkens and Hannibal holds up a hand, wordlessly asking for his patience and Will pulls a grimace, conceding to do so, for now. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, head lowering.  
Bedelia intercepts their wordless communication, picking up the underlying tension just fine, her voice dripping with almost furious spite.

„Ah, I wonder… is there something like ‚trouble in paradise‘… maybe the clever and oh so empathic Will Graham will end in Bluebeards chamber after all.“

Wills lips twitch in a snarl and he starts towards her but Hannibal beats him to it, crossing the room in two long strides, his right hand gripping her throat tightly, pulling her up by it so her face is close to his, her hands scrabbling at his arm. Hannibals voice is a deadly whisper, kind in its cruelty.

„Do not presume to understand what we are, Bedelia. We are beyond your capacity to encompass.“

He drops her unceremoniously, turning towards Will, hands coming up to cup Wills head, thumbs stroking along his jaw, voice still low, eyes boring into Wills. He pauses for a long time, the blackish red of his eyes changing and deepening with the darkness and emotions swirling within. When Hannibal speaks there is a note of tiredness in his voice, and Will wonders at it for a moment before his brain deciphers the actual words.

„We will not partake of Bedelia, today, Will. I know… I know that we came here with quite a different goal, but Chiyo has offered her own leg as recompense and, as much as I would love to ignore her offer, our shared and entwined history forces me to consider it.“

Will lowers his head a fraction, voice flat, the words a statement.

„And you have accepted.“

Will fully snarls this time and then he pulls back, shaking his head at himself. Hannibals voice pulls him back from his thoughts.

„Tentatively, yes, though not finally. I will concede to your will in this.“

Will drops his head back and rolls his shoulders at the sudden tension, deeply unsettled. He paces back and forth for a moment, trying to put his jumbled feelings of betrayal, hurt, jealousy and fury into words. When he finally speaks it is with a cold finality that surprises himself, its truth resonating through him.

„No. Her words have persuaded your uncle and in lesser measure Chiyo to turn against you, against us, put us and my father in danger.“

Will pauses, smiling grimly.

„She had the chance to learn her lesson, she did not.“

He stops pacing and reaches into himself, his neck prickling with the antlers fanning out, suspending them all in their web. He turns to face Hannibal and Bedelia, tone soft and yet steely, stating facts, knowing this will be worse for her than death.

„We will take your tongue, this time, Bedelia. I am sick and tired of it. And you… better make sure to be happy for it. We will spare you because of the history we share with Chiyo. If I ever lay eyes on you again, you will deeply regret it.“

He can see her jaw working, a tear trailing down her face, holding on to her countenance with an effort. He smiles at her, grimly, before he turns to Hannibal, tone matter of fact.

„I trust you know how to. I will return to the boat and negotiate a refuel. I will come back if you do not arrive within two hours.“

Hannibal nods once, his dark eyes sparkling, delighted and cruel, aroused as always when Will lets his own darkness shine so freely. Will grinds his teeth and leaves the house, emotions settling slowly, breathing deeply in when the breeze hits him, feeling calm only when he reaches the boat again.

_____________________

 

Hannibal returns to the yacht when Will is overseeing the refueling, the harbor master grumpy but actually more than happy to part with his fuel for more than double the price, no questions asked, of course. Will refuses to acknowledge Hannibal, watching the sea instead, still irritated as to how their visit to Bedelia went, the… bickering between them back then like an open wound. Hannibal looks at him for a long moment, silent, and then steps past him, carrying a small paper wrapped package, silent.

It’s almost one hour later that Will enters the aft living room again, empty of occupants now, wiping his slightly oily hands on a cloth, his head coming up when he hears the soft steps, careful and yet sure, as not to spook him. He sighs through his nose, anticipating and answering the question preemptively.

„Go. Go see her. You will be staying here anyway.“

Chiyo pauses and then nods, her soft voice melodic.

„Hannibal told me you would not honor my request. And yet you spared her life.“

Will sighs again, and finally raises his eyes to hers, unapologetic and tired.

„You once told me we would not meet again. And yet here we are. Consider it an act of reciprocity for your help in Florida.“

She tilts her head.

„A gift.“

Will shrugs, clicking his tongue.

„If you so will. I do not wish to partake of you, Chiyo, but you would do well to stay out of our way, now. And keep her out of it as well.“

He levels her with a direct stare.

„You will be -her- keeper, now. Fate reincarnated.“

He steps backwards, extending his arm to indicate the exit to the aft deck.

„Please.“

Chiyo looks at him for a long moment and then nods, once, stepping past him in measured steps, leaving an echoing quiet behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Will listens to silence she leaves, settling deep within him, before turning and heading towards the dining room, pouring himself a scotch when he gets there and flopping down into a chair, nursing it quietly. He looks up when steps announce his fathers arrival, his aftershave preceding him and Will grins wryly to himself, swirling the liquid around in the glass, lightly toasting his dad with it.

Steven harrumphs when he sees the whiskey in Wills hand, eyebrows raising. His voice is uncaringly amused, heavily on the teasing side.

„Went that good, huh.“

Will toast him again, silent, expression a bit peeved. His dad cackles a laugh, ending in a bemused sigh.

„Well, she has to be something special for that Chiyo to betray you, I gather. Or your uncle in-law. Glad you didn’t feel the need to serve her to me after all.“

Will raises his eyebrows at that, his expression turning a bit sheepish.

„Ah, dad, about that… you might wanna stick to the side dishes then. Though I bet it will be delicious.“

Steven Graham groans, hands coming up to his face, shaking his head, though Will has the distinct impression that he does so more at himself, than at the situation. He drops his hands after a moment with a sigh, throwing a look over his shoulder in direction of the kitchen, where small sounds are drifting over, together with the smell of eggs and meat sizzling. Will contemplates for a moment and then interrupts their weirdly companionable silence, keeping his voice calm.

„Where is Robertas?“

„Back in his cabin, he was really feeling under the weather. Though I suspect it might be more the emotional drain. “

His dad pauses, watching Wills face carefully.

„Is he coming back to wherever we’re going with us?“

Will clicks his tongue, considering. They are not -that- far off now. He purses his lips, looking at his dad, deciding to just ask.

„Would you like that?“

Steven taps his fingers on the table for a moment, considering. When he answers, his voice sounds surprisingly clear on the matter.

„Well, he’s family, isn’t he? And he doesn’t have that long? Yeah, let’s drag him along.“

Will snorts and then grins, nodding once. Very well then. He downs the whiskey and pushes himself up, walking towards the kitchen. He pushes the door open and then stops right at the door, swinging shut behind him, taking the sight in. Hannibal is standing in front of the stove, a white apron tied to his waist, stirring what seems to be a mouth-watering protein scramble in the pan and Will is transported back so many years, when he first tasted that. He smirks wryly and steps up behind him, running his hands up Hannibals back.   
Hannibal leans back into Will slightly, just enough weight behind it to require trust, and Will closes his eyes, sighing into the short hair in Hannibals nape, breathing the smell of his skin in, just allowing himself to let it calm him. Hannibals low question pulls him back a bit, but doesn’t break the relaxation.

„You were disappointed by the way the situation with Bedelia was resolved. Tell me, Will, what is it that you would have preferred?“

Will hums for a moment, turning his head sideways, his hands coming forward to Hannibals belly, thumbs hooking into the aprons top, taking the weight of his arms. He squeezes, once before answering, carefully trying to map out his feelings.

„A part of me wished for a recurrence of the dinner in Paris, I guess. It and it’s… preparations were so intense… they have been permanently etched into my mind, and I…“

He pauses, rubbing his forehead on Hannibals shoulder, once before sighing, deeply.

„And I fantasized we could reverse our roles back then in the cellar, that I would feel you work on her, coming full circle if you will, not our first kill but our first… hunt, after the dragon, before we would reincarnate our lives into… that of a family, now.“

Hannibal stills for a moment under his hands, and then he turns the stove off and carefully puts the wooden spoon away.

„We could still do that, mylimasis, even when we have settled again.“

Will shakes his head again, his forehead leaving crinkles in Hannibals shirt.

„No. My dad’s right, you know. We won’t be hunting with twins. And the meat will be pork in all likelihood. If we do this, it will be the end of an era, once more.“

Will squeezes again, feeling Hannibal go still under his hands, once more. There is no movement between them for a long moment, and then Will feels more than hears the huffed laugh and then Hannibal turns in his arms, his hands coming up to frame Wills face, thumbs stroking softly. His words have a dreamlike quality, whispered between them, sending shivers down Wills spine.

„It has been 10 years, since I first laid my eyes on you, William Graham. Six of those have been then most brilliant and challenging ones of my life, one lost to fate and stupidity and three to my own errors and our combined stubbornness.“

Will snorts but remains silent, quietly echoing the sentiment, the words stuck in his throat, eyes flicking back and forth rapidly. Hannibal continues after a moment, still almost inaudible, eyes huge and black, the red almost eclipsed.

„If we need to reincarnate our lives to fit with our goals, then that will be the most desired challenge of my life, Will. I believe I will be able to cook with pork.“

Will cackles, feeling the tears fall and Hannibal bends forward and licks them off, the action triggering a shuddering moan from Will. He stays close, his lips on Wills left cheek, his voice turning a bit more playful.

„However, we can still come full circle to that night in Paris, if you wish? If I remember correctly, you were distracting me from cooking then as well.“

Will huffs a laugh, grinning, Hannibals lips tugging playfully at his skin. Will sighs and then pushes the words out, knowing they will disappear from his mind in a moment otherwise.

„What about the cook? Won’t he come back at any moment?“

Hannibal lowers his head a fraction more, pressing a kiss to the corner of Wills mouth, eliciting another moan.

„I offered him to stay on the island if he so wishes. He is currently packing his bags. So, there will no-one disrupting us, mylimasis.“

Will groans, following the pressure when Hannibal pushes him a step backward against the industrial fridge and Will opens his legs a bit and Hannibal pushes between them, his body a hard line, with his arousal hot and heavy against Will. Will groans and then tilts his head up a bit, his lips finding Hannibals right away and they just hold for a moment, and Will trembles with the intimate intensity of it, the echo running through Hannibal as well. And then Hannibal tilts his head further and Will lets himself fall into the kiss, the sensual slide of their tongues instantly deep and all consuming. He moans into the kiss and Hannibal drags his hands down to his collar, the stubble rasping beneath his hands. 

There is a ripping sound and the shirt Will wears parts at the collar, and Hannibal groans into Wills mouth before he drags his lips down over Wills chin, over his throat to the skin revealed by the cloth. Hannibal starts to lave and suck and bite at the skin there, and Wills head drops back slightly, thumping against the refrigerator with a dull thud, arching into Hannibal, his body coming alive.

Hannibals hands drop lower, ripping the shirt even more, hands coming to Wills chest, and Wills drags his own hands up and twists them into Hannibals hair, directing him away from his throat and down towards his right nipple. He groans harshly when Hannibal bites at it, worrying it between his teeth and Will hisses, appreciating the pain this elicits. Hannibal moves over to the other nipple and then pushes his hands down, and into the back of Wills pants, kneading. Will mewls softly and then pushes Hannibal further down, eyes closed, moaning when he hears the dull thud of Hannibals knees on the floor, feels the hot breath on his smile, licking it and then traveling further down, to the front of his jeans. Hannibal starts mouthing him through the cloth, licking at the precome staining Wills pants. 

Will opens his eyes and looks down, as always unbearably aroused by the sight of Hannibal kneeling to service him and Hannibal raises his eyes to his, corners crinkling, knowing. And also utterly aroused and Will releases a shuddering breath, right hand leaving Hannibals hair to trace the soft skin next to his left eye. Hannibal turns his head into the feathery caress, before smirking, a bit on the cruel side and Wills lips twitch into the approximation of a smile, echoing the darkness seeping in. His fingers drop down and he traces along Hannibals lips, licking his own, seeing Hannibals gaze darken ever more. He starts a bit when Hannibal moves his hands rather suddenly, pulling down the zipper of his jeans, leaving the button fastened. Will swallows and drops his hands to the refrigerator behind him, holding himself up, and Hannibal reaches in, tugging the underwear out of the way, and pulls Wills cock free through the gap, the angle and pressure of the garments slightly uncomfortable but beyond erotic and Will gasps quietly when he finally springs free, the head resting against Hannibals lips. And Hannibals eyes are still on his and Will mewls, precome staining Hannibals lips and running down his face and Wills eyebrows raise up, mouth open in astonished and desperate arousal at the sight, still so brutally intimate and erotic after all their time together. 

Hannibal purses his lips and it changes the angle, adding some pressure to the head and Will gasps again, his cock twitching. He almost misses the words, spoken low, breath tickling.

„I wonder if I can make you come just like this.“

Will closes his eyes, his head dropping forward, his only response a whispered ‚fuck‘. Hannibal chuckles and the motion travels through Will, making him groan. Hannibal sighs quietly and then the tip of his tongue darts out, into the slit and Wills head shoots back up again, thumping against the metal door behind him. Hannibal hums and Will hits his fist against the metal, uncaring now, needing. He tries to draw deep breaths, feeling his orgasm coil already, triggered by utter eroticism. Hannibal blows softly, the warm air triggering goosebumps all over, and then chuckles again and Will bares his teeth, head falling further back and he hears Hannibal groan, his lips enveloping the very tip and its all it takes, and Will jerks, his vision whitening out, painting Hannibals face with his come.

He groans quietly, turning his face to the floor, unsurprised and yet disoriented when he realizes he must have dropped to the floor, after. Hannibals hand comes to his chin and tilts his face towards the side again, licking a broad strip along his face, and Will moans, deeply, whispering.

„Please…“

Hannibal growls at him and then turns him onto his stomach and Will raises his hips when he feels Hannibal drag his jeans down. There is a short pause and then Hannibals apron is placed under Wills head, folded and he presses his forehead to it, inhaling deeply. Then two fingers press in, unceremoniously and Will groans, oversensitive, hissing with the burn, moaning when he realizes Hannibal must have used his own come as lubricant. Hannibal moves over him, stretching across his whole body, breath hot in his neck, and Wills right arm comes up, holding him down to his neck, fingers once more in Hannibals hair.  
Hannibal reaches back and presses Wills right leg forward, and Will takes a deep breath, trying to prepare but yet almost screaming into the apron when Hannibal possesses him, unrelenting and unstoppable, the burn taking all thought. Hannibal settles fully atop of Will with a deep groan, stilling and Will releases a tortured groan, the agonized pleasure fusing them together.   
Hannibals left hand reaches up and links with Wills left before he starts up a rolling motion, the soft drag at a precise angle, stars sparking behind Wills eyes. Hannibal bites softly at his neck, worrying the now old scars there, remade again and again, the familiar motion a welcome counterpoint to the intensity. Hannibals voice is low, a rumbling darkness shuddering through them both.

„May I use you?“

Will moans sharply, twitching, futile arousal making his hips jerk up a bit. He pushes himself up a bit, knowing that Hannibal wants and needs a verbal answer and he bunches one corner of the apron together with jerky movements, open-mouthed and then he turns slightly back, catching Hannibals eye from the corner of his eyes. He stills for a moment and then grins sharply, whisper harsh in the quiet little room.

„Make me scream.“

And then he pushes the apron into his own mouth and Hannibal snarls, growling, rearing up over him and Will closes his eyes, trying to prepare and yet the gasp is almost a scream already when the first thrust comes, vicious and precise, taking Wills mind and breath. The slapping sound is loud between them, emphasized by the staccato growls of Hannibal and the moaned screams of Will, and it is close to meditative, the feeling of base possession satisfying on a level that is almost disturbing.   
Hannibal pushes himself up suddenly, pulling Will with him, to all fours and its brutal now, the angle utterly precise and Will can feel it, unbelieving and tortured pleasure, the teeth in his neck tipping him over once more, the blood dripping onto the floor, its coppery smell tinting the world red, tipping him into ecstasy. 

**

They stay on the floor for a long while, Hannibal holding Will, supporting his head, hand over his heart. Will stretches a bit, feeling almost broken with pleasure. He smile softly, pressing a kiss to Hannibals arm, his voice warm and sated, low.

„This isn’t quite how it was back then, if I remember correctly…“

Hannibal chuckles against his back, forehead bumping softly into Will and they laugh softly together. Will gasps when Hannibal pushes three fingers in, arching up, turning his head to the arm below his head, gasping quietly. He lightly hits Hannibals arm with his right fist, but arches into him nonetheless, accepting. Hannibal hums against his neck, checking and licking the bloody indents, and then he removes his fingers, pulling Will even tighter agains him. His voice rumbles between them, hands softly stroking, now.

„I believe it may be a fitting reincarnation. After all, did we not wish to do this, in that kitchen?“

Will chuckles, leaning back against him, Hannibal reaching for the apron and cleaning them both with it, perfunctory.

„Oh yes. But I also… wished to taste her.“

Will purses his lips, and then he grins again, pulling away, pushing himself up and pulling his jeans up in the process. He clicks his tongue, looking down at Hannibal who lies there, watching him, a serene expression on his face.  
He grins.

„Now, I believe I can once more. Even though it may be cold now.“

He turns towards the stove, ignoring Hannibals exclaimed groan, taking the pan and he steps out, defiantly raising his chin when his father meets his gaze from the other side of the dining room, smirking but not quite meeting his eyes. Steven clears his throat, shrugging, embarrassed and amused.

„Guess whose cabin is right behind the kitchen? Glad you two have so much fun together, I guess.“

Will closes his eyes for a moment and wills the embarrassment down, offering the pan when he opens them again, voice gravely amused.

„Great. Wanna have some protein scramble, dad?“

Steven Graham chuckles, eyes twinkling, ears still bright red.

„Gosh yes, please. Let’s eat.“

Will smiles softly, inclining his head, eyes crinkling, the very thought of the reincarnation of life they are attempting utterly addictive.  
Hannibal joins them after a moment, the very picture of impeccability, though the apron is nowhere to be seen and Will suspects it might disappear altogether probably, too soiled to be cleaned now.

Will sets the table quietly, for four, and then goes to the forward cabin, knocking softly on the door. The voice calling him in is tired, even more gravelly and Will steps in carefully, senses primed just in case. Though he doesn’t think Robertas would be that stupid indeed. He quietly takes the small man in, sitting with a blanket in an armchair, and he makes his voice soft, yielding.

„Would you like to come to a late breakfast? Although I am afraid the protein scramble has gone cold by now.“

Robertas sighs, eyes going to the small wound in Wills neck, blood already drying, and he shakes his head slowly, trailing his eyes further down Wills body. He chuckles quietly to himself and Will shifts his weight, refusing to be annoyed. Robertas takes a deep breath, triggering a cough and his voice sounds raw when he finally answers, still wheezing for breath.

„He always wanted his things to be beautiful. No wonder he picked you. Though I suspect your mind must match in his judgement for you to actually remain interesting.“

He purses his lips, tilting his head, a twisted smile on his face.

„Who would’ve thought. We always had to discard his more boring projects, you know.“

Will remains silent, waiting, picking up on the underlying frustration just fine. Robertas fidgets, fiddling with the blanket for a moment, before he seems to gather his strength and pushes himself up, wheezing and Will holds out his hand, instinctually and at first he doesn’t even realize, eyes on Robertas, the sudden elation in his eyes ringing every alarm bell in Will. Shit.

The needle falls from Robertas hand, the stab having gone through the blanket. The room wavers and Robertas expression changes to exhausted relief and Will snarls, throwing himself back with some of his last energy, crashing into the door, the sound traveling through the ship. 

The tunnel draws in and Will falls and falls and falls, never touching ground.


	3. Chapter 3

It is dark when Will wakes and at first there is the immobilizing fear of having lost his eyesight, terrifying and frantic, before he realizes that the room is simply utterly dark, the only light from the low emergency lighting indicating the swimming vests below the seats, blinds pulled tight. Will tries to raise his hand to his face, realizing his left hand is somehow taped down, but his right hand works, and he drags his hand over his face, stubble rasping, trying to gather his senses.  
He tries to speak but finds his throat sore, recognizing the feeling after a moment, an amplified echo of how he felt after -somebody- pushed a tube down his throat. Only way worse and Will realizes it must have been done even more hastily, inflicting even more damage on the way. He tries to clear his throat and draws his brows together, considering. The fact that he appears to be alone is rather weird, the yacht obviously at sea, with the engine turned off, the waves higher than in the secluded harbor.

His right hand reaches over and he traces his left, feeling the infusion needle, the immobilizing making sense now, at least. He carefully pulls the tape off, but keeps the needle in, conceding it as the best option, considering how much he does not know, yet. He pulls himself up into a sitting position, torturously slow, gasping when he finally sits, only now realizing he is in one of the cabins, his new position allowing him to push back the blind in front of one of the little windows, pitch black night greeting him, stars almost completely hidden by clouds. He draws his brows back together when he realizes their position lights are off, his mind slowly coming back online, worry settling in his stomach. 

He slowly reaches up and traces the line back to the IV bag in the low light coming through the little window now, finding it almost empty. He pulls the needle out then, after all, not wanting to carry it around with him, the action leaving him gasping for breath. He looks out again, thoughts racing and then he gasps, seeing the star formation through a gap in the clouds, northern hemisphere stars over them, now. What the fuck.

Will turns around and forces himself up, taking a step towards the door. His leg gives and he crashes into the little table, groaning with the impact, the wood breaking beneath his weight. He stays down for a moment, panting, and then finally he can hear steps, rushing closer. He takes a splinter of wood into his right hand, pulling himself up into a sitting position with the last of his strength.

The door opens, darkness behind it as well and then Will almost laughs in relief, a waft of that aftershave greeting him. 

„Christ, Will.“

His dad bends down and embraces him, and then pulls him up and Will has a fleeting thought that it should have been harder for him to do this. Steven Graham stays close, carefully walking Will backwards to the bunk he lay on, seating him on it and Will drops his head backwards against the wall, panting with the effort.  
His father puts his hand on Wills forehead, feeling for a moment and then squeezes his shoulder, sighing loudly, obviously relieved as well. Will forces a questioning sound out, half groan half ‚what happened‘, the words slurred somehow. His dad squeezes his shoulder again, his voice gruff.

„Don’t speak, Will. Keep your strength. Gave us quite the scare there, you know?“

Steven pauses, obviously trying to find the right words.

„We’re off the coast of France. Been going up towards wherever your plane is parked for the last few weeks, always close to the coast but just out far enough to stay in international waters, always only traveling by day because we’re only winging it, to be honest. The yacht is stocked with food for many more people, so no problems there and Hannibal took on a load of fuel canisters somewhere on the canary islands.“

Will shakes his head slowly, trying to make sense of ‚last few weeks‘, and his dad squeezes once more, before he drops his hand and drags it over his own face instead, all shadows in the almost dark.

„He injected you with a combination of pure heroin and anesthetics and some kind of poison, you dropped like a stone right in front of the cabins door, not breathing. We came both running when we heard the crash, we pushed the door open and you away with it and I…“

Steven pauses, and Will can hear the click when he swallows.

„I have never felt a jolt like that fear in that moment, for you, but also, I admit, seeing Hannibals expression. He was -scared- Will, utterly terrified, and then it bled into fury and then into calm neutrality and that scared me more than anything else. He bent down to you, fully ignoring Robertas, and we carried you out of there.“

He pauses again and Will reaches forward, taking his hand, squeezing softly in return. Steven covers their hands with his other, continuing with a sigh.

„And then the fun part began. CPR, mixing some of Robertas medicine together for an antidote, praying it would work, well in my case… Hannibal probably dared god instead. Your heart stopped twice. I… will never forget his expression in those moments.“

Will forces another sound out, and Steven clasps his hands tighter for a moment before releasing them and standing up.

„He is in the kitchen I guess. We had to tube feed you, he cooked some disgusting porridgy stuff and forced it into you. Good thing, too, otherwise you’d have lost even more weight than you have now. We put on an IV bag from time to time, but they’re limited, we had to ration them.“

He leans forward and presses a kiss to Wills forehead and Will tears up, knowing it must have been torture, indeed. His father steps back, gruffly clearing his throat, voice low.

„I’ll go get him.“

He steps towards the door but turns around once more, a dark shadow across the cabin.

„He’s very tightly controlled, Will, has been since that day, all emotions locked away. Don’t be irritated by it.“

He turns and steps out, and Will breathes in harshly, bumping his head against the wall behind him. He slowly pushes his hands down his thighs, feeling and recognizing the change now, the bones in stark relief. He pulls a grimace, hands trailing up to his rib cage, and he drops them, annoyed, able to feel the scars very prominently, even through the t-shirt. He swallows, finally catching onto the bad breath as well, trying and failing to imagine Hannibal brushing his teeth while unconscious. 

The cabin door opens and Hannibal steps in, carrying a tray with some stew and a lone candle and Will squints, even the low light hurting his eyes and he holds his hand up to shield them. Hannibal sits down next to him quietly, face a mask of neutrality and Will hurts with it. Hannibal puts the tray on the ground and finally faces Will, eyes lowered, clinically checking his pulse. Will lets him, waiting patiently until finally Hannibal is done, hesitating. Will reaches up with both hands, slowly, and the sound that steals itself out of Hannibals chest when he touches his face burns itself into Wills soul. Hannibal leans forward without volition, and Will pulls him closer with what’s left of his strength, Hannibals forehead coming to rest on his shoulder and Will can feel him breaking in slow motion, the facade splintering, clinging to him. 

They stay like this for a long, long moment, quietly acknowledging and then Hannibal pulls himself up a bit again and kisses Will softly, salty wetness baptizing their reunion. Wills stomach rumbles and it forces a laugh from them both, soft. Hannibal bends down and retrieves the tray, putting it over Wills lap carefully, before taking the spoon and stirring the soup with it, his voice rough.

„I apologize, Will, if I had known you would be awake, I would have left it in a more unprocessed manner.“

Will shakes his head and then shrugs, a smile tugging at his mouth. Hannibal nods, once and then he starts to feed the… soup to Will and Will has to admit, it is a disgusting goo, though his stomach stops the rumbling. Well, at least something. He falls back against the wall after half of it is gone and Hannibal puts the tray away, wordlessly pulling Will closer and down, tugging the blanket back over them both. Will nestles even closer, Hannibals arms pulling him ever tighter, until all he feels is body heat and solidity and all he hears the heartbeat under his ear. He falls asleep to the way Hannibal drags his hands through his curls.


	4. Chapter 4

Will wakes again to gray light streaming in through the little window, and he squeezes his eyes shut, taking his time to let them adjust to the light, very grateful to have woken during the night the first time, dimly noting they appear to be stationary, again.   
There is a small yip and rhythmic thumping and then something licks over Wills face and he starts, eyes flying open, taking in the little mutt happily standing on its hind legs to reach Will, tail wagging. He scratches the little brown and white dog behind its ears, looking it over, a soft smile stealing across his face. It’s more of a puppy still, really, a wild mixture by the looks of it, apparently small in size but lively. It barks, once when Will stops scratching and petting for a moment and Will snorts, resuming his ministrations. He starts talking nonsense to it, and then laughs when the small dog jumps onto the bunk and settles next to him, rolling onto its back to have his belly scratched.

Will settles down again, petting slowly raising his eyes when he hears the steps, Hannibal coming close slowly, a small smile on his face. He sits down at the end of the bunk, watching quietly for a moment, his voice hesitant when he speaks eventually.

„Her name is Kanshanokimochi. Chiyo found her on the docks and brought her on board after we stabilized you.“

Will raises his eyebrows, and Hannibal smirks, answering the unspoken question.

„It means ‚gratefulness‘.“

Will sighs through his nose, inclining his head in acknowledgment. Hannibals voice contains a note of wistfulness, eyes having a far away look.

„And once again we are on a boat, on our way to England and you are mostly unable to speak. We are coming full circle once more.“

Will huffs a laugh and then clears his throat, forcing the words out, wheezing and almost inaudible. 

„Will I loose my beard again, too?“

Hannibal purses his lips, almost smirking, his forefinger scratching through Wills beard. He leans forward and kisses Will, Kanshanokimochi protesting loudly and Will breaks the kiss, chuckling. He looks at her and then whistles sharply through his teeth and she plops down, tail wagging, tongue out and he scratches her again under her jaw, cooing at her softly. He looks up at Hannibal and grins, words whispered.

„Mochi learns fast…“ 

Hannibal raises his left eyebrow and then literally rolls his eyes at Will, making him laugh deeply at the mock annoyance.  
Hannibal pulls himself back up and then takes ‚Mochi‘ down, offering his hand to Will and Will takes it, smiling broadly, letting himself being pulled up. He sways on his feet, hands holding tightly onto Hannibals arms and he waits until the world stops spinning before he takes a careful step and they walk slowly towards the aft living room, where Will sinks unto the sofa next to his dad, already exhausted by the short trip but utterly glad to be out of bed.

His father reaches over and passes him a mug and Will inhales deeply, the heavenly smell of coffee greeting him. Hannibal bends down and kisses him, quickly, before disappearing towards the kitchen, and Will sighs, suspiciously happy, all things considered. He turns his head towards his dad, who smirks at him, a bit too softly to be properly teasing. Will clears his throat, forcing the words out.

„So. How long was I out this time?“

Steven Graham chuckles, voice warm.

„Only about 10 hours. Less than we thought. We actually stopped the engine only when the puppy started towards your cabin, your canine pull apparently existing in sleep as well.“

Will chuckles softly and looks around, shrugging. He whistles softly, and there is a flurry of clicks, little paws hitting the carpet and tiles in between and then Mochi jumps in his lap, happily yipping and biting at his hand until he starts petting and scratching her again with his left hand.  
Will sighs bemusedly, mostly at himself, whispering to his dad.

„Her name's Mochi.“

His dad snorts, cackling.

„Told him you wouldn’t pick that long japanese word for a name. Was probably the first time he was slightly annoyed at me.“

Will chuckles deeply, taking a sip of coffee, gaze wandering around the room. It is clean again and Wills mind conjures the picture of Hannibal and his dad scrubbing it clean with bleach, probably quite grim, happy for the distraction after saving his life. Speaking of which. Will licks his lips and clicks his tongue, leveling his dad with a direct stare.

„What happened with Robertas, dad?“

His dad drums his fingers on his own cup of coffee, once, smirking wryly.

„He’s in the freezer.“

Ah. Though. Will draws his brows together, a bit confused.

„I thought the cancer made him unsalvageable for consumption?“

Steven sighs, deeply and yet weirdly amused, all sense of compassion apparently having been evaporated by the almost assassination of his son.

„Not for the fish.“

Will rolls his eyes and shakes his head, a bit amused despite all. He purses his lips, considering.

„Did he say why? I mean, why did he try to kill me, not Hannibal?“

His dad sighs again and then nods, a forcing a laugh.

„It’s trivial, really. Remember how he told Hannibal that Lady Murasaki had left the estate to him, despite all, and that even disowning Hannibal would leave him, or better you both as the only heirs?“

Will nods, confused. His father continues, haltingly.

„Well, Robertas figured that if he killed you, Hannibal would destroy himself. If he only killed Hannibal, -you- would have been the heir, since you are married, and he said, and I quote, ‚he’d survive, he’s stronger than you‘.“

His father snorts, darkly.

„He fucking didn’t want you to have anything of it. That simple.“

Will looks at him for a moment, suddenly knowing.

„You killed him.“

His dad shoots him a sidelong look, tilting his head, fidgeting.

„More or less. I hit him over the head with what I had in my hand. Which happened to be a whiskey tumbler. Guess he died of hemorrhaging in his brain or something.“

Will is silent for a long time and then he scoots a bit closer and leans back, his head almost, but not quite, resting on his dads shoulder.

„Thanks, dad. He was wrong you know, though. I wouldn’t. Not anymore.“

Steven reaches over and pats Wills right hand awkwardly, and they just fall into an easy silence, the soft sounds from the kitchen lulling Will back to sleep. Despite the coffee.


	5. Chapter 5

The smell of a rich vegetable stew wakes him next, Mochi snoring on his lap and he squints towards the windows, the sun shining through the clouds, the roiling waves broken by their own movement. They are making good time in Wills opinion and he softly puts Mochi to the side, before standing up slowly and walking over to the dining room. 

Hannibal comes out of the kitchen with the soup, carefully putting it down on the table and Will drops into the chair at the head, smirking wryly at himself.

„You’d think I would be happy to move after how many weeks in bed?!“

Hannibal hums, taking out two spoons and bowls from the cupboard.

„Almost five weeks. We couldn’t risk taking you to a hospital, so you lost quite some muscle mass. I apologize.“

Will shakes his head and holds out his hand, and Hannibal comes and takes it, sitting down in the chair next to Will. Will squeezes tightly, words coming haltingly.

„Thank you, Hannibal. It was my fault, you know. I was careless.“

Hannibal is silent for a long moment, turning to put the soup in their bowls. When he speaks, Will can hear the tightly controlled fury in his voice.

„There is nothing to apologize, mylimasis. He would have tried sooner or later. In a way it was fortunate that we were still in port and Chiyo could provide us with at least the minimum of the necessary medical equipment.“

Will is silent for a moment, picking up the spoon and taking a mouthful, almost moaning at the taste and the feel of something solid in his mouth. He swallows and then reaches over again, drawing Hannibals gaze.

„I’m sorry you lost your family, love.“

Will can see the helpless and brutal effect the endearment has and he makes a mental note to find more fitting endearments for them both, and use them more, before he leans in and presses their foreheads together. Hannibals voice is raw, shaking his head softly.

„You are my family now, gifting me with a father and, hopefully, someday, children.“

He pauses, before continuing, drily.

„And dogs.“

Will smirks and then draws back, watching him closely.

„It is alright to mourn though, Hannibal. Especially Lady Murasaki.“

Hannibal inclines his head a fraction, turning and slowly eating his soup and Will follows suit, Hannibals words spoken softly in-between spoonfuls.

„You are the heir of the Lecter estate now, Will.“

Will raises his eyebrows, his elbow raising in an approximated shrug, spoon in hand.

„Technically. It’s not as if we could actually claim it.“

He pauses, smirking slyly.

„How does that make you feel?“

Hannibal almost snorts, and Will grins, the weight of the last weeks slowly dripping away with humor.

„Happy, Will. We will find a way to claim it.“

Will smiles a broad smile at him, pushing his empty bowl forward, suddenly ravenous.

„More, please.“

___________________

 

They reach the open waters close to the harbor of Southampton after two more weeks, traveling slow on purpose, giving all of them time to heal from the close call. Will takes the beard off after all, to the unbelieving stare of his dad and utter delight of Hannibal, who insists on making good use of the soundproof cabins, the massaging of his redeveloping muscles segueing oftentimes into more pleasurably pastimes. Will trains on deck and he trains Mochi, who takes to sleeping with them. Will catches Hannibal talking japanese to her a few times, smirking softly and listening closely to the beautiful cadence.

They load their most valuable things into the dinghy in the dead of the night, Will quietly mourning the yacht but knowing it has to be this way, watching calmly as it sinks, before turning the dinghy towards England, entering the UK again via a small marina, Mochi safely tucked into Wills safety vest. They steal a car from the marinas parking lot, leaving a note for the owner with the hangars address, the trip to the hangar surreal. Hannibal dresses up again in the car, clothes taken from his uncles closet and Will and his father wait in the car when he enters the office, the phrase ‚fake it till you make it‘ once more flitting through Wills brain, absently scratching Mochis head to keep her quiet.

Hannibal comes out again, Will mentally comparing his outfit to a peacock, grinning, before opening the door for him.

„Hangar 3. They will open the hangar doors in an hour, that should be enough time to check everything.“

Will nods and then drives over to the hangar, parking the car close to the entrance. He leaves one of Robertas heavy gold watches on the instrument board, with a note, saying ‚This is worth over 100000$, consider this before calling the police.‘. He smirks, wiping down the surfaces, watching as Hannibal checks the little jet from the outside, his father shaking his head while stepping up and into it. Will grins, and then takes his bag, following him.

His father greets him, when he enters, more than a little bit flabbergasted, indicating the bed in the back, the actual little kitchen in back and the sofa next to the four seats.

„So, this is how we’re gonna be traveling from now on? Dammit, son, couldn’t you have said so before? I dreaded the flight the whole time since you spoke of the plane, thinking it to be a regular jet. Not…. this….“

He gesticulates, waving his hand and Will snorts, leaning closer. 

„Guess what dad, it’s all yours, too. Because we’ll be in the cockpit.“

Hannibal chooses this moment to step into the cabin as well, chiming in, pulling the door close behind them.

„A coffee would be very much appreciated though, Steven.“

Will smiles at them both and then drops his stuff into one corner, hands Mochi to his dad and then enters the cockpit, dropping into one of the piloting seats with a sigh. He traces the instruments for a moment, before starting the check, painstakingly checking every function, Hannibal doing the same from the other seat after a moment. The hangar door shudders and opens with a loud metallic groan, the early morning sun not yet visible but illuminating the flight nonetheless. Hannibal calls the tower and asks for a slot for a flight to Barcelona, the reply coming immediately, scheduling them for departure right away and Will thanks whoever restricted regular planes to after 6am departures, the airways still very much open at 4am. Hannibal powers up the engines, rolling them out of the hangar slowly and onto the roll field. Will goes through the pre departure checks, nodding to Hannibal and calls back to the main cabin.

„Sit down dad, going home now.“

He grins at Hannibal and Hannibal pushes the accelerator forward, the jet taking to the sky.


	6. Chapter 6

Hannibal changes their flight hardware radar id shortly before they reach Barcelonas airspace, a trick done by a little extra electronics they had installed for exactly this kind of emergency, hailing Algier, asking for passage to Lagos, pretending to start from another small private air field just north of Barcelona.

They do it again close to Lagos, deeming it safe to ask for Cape Town directly this time, for all intents and purposes no-one hunting them after all.   
When they finally touch down on their air strip, id changed once more, Will is thoroughly exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, Hannibal only pretending to fare better. 

They roll the jet towards their own hangar and Hannibal opens it via remote control, parking it and Will closes his eyes when the engine finally stops, post flight checks complete, the sudden silence deafening.  
Will looks back at the cabin, the groggy form of his father raising from the bed in the back, Mochi barking and running in circles, desperate to be out. Will smiles tiredly but relieved at Hannibal and then heaves himself up and out of the cockpit, opening the door with some effort, senses flooding with the familiar smells of… home. Will closes his eyes and he smiles, tears pricking in the corner of his eyes, realizing it actually is, and he steps down with renewed energy, calling back over his shoulder.

„Last one in the house is a rotten egg!“

He can hear his father snort and can just about ‚see‘ Hannibals sneer, the grin suddenly etched into his face. He whistles, loud and clear, Mochi barking at his feet and then there is another bark, loud and resonating and Emily jumps into him and Will laughs, both of them rolling in the dusty earth for a moment before Emily jumps off of him again, turning to the little puppy, obviously unsettled by the strange dog. Will whistles and kneels himself between them, beckoning them both close and making a show of petting them both at the same time. Emily makes a sound that reminds him of a ‚harrumph‘, yawning and Will grins, relieved. They’re gonna be alright. 

Will pushes himself up and starts towards the house when another dog trots close, wagging it’s tail happily, obviously familiar with Will. Will frowns, and then it clicks and his heart skips a beat, his voice a breathless whisper.

„Oh my god…. Applesauce.“

 

___________________

 

Will arrives at the main house, out of breath with frightened excitement and his sprint, wanting to be there first, needing to know. Margot sits on the veranda, reading to Morgan, and Will stops, taking them in, utterly floored. Margot pauses in her reading and looks up and she smirks, waving towards him. She speaks a few words Will cannot quite understand to the boy and Morgan takes off towards the lake, yelling ‚Mom! They’re here!!‘. 

Will dumbly turns towards the lake just as Hannibal comes up beside him, grave and deadly, brilliant fury hidden beneath a mask of congeniality. Morgan is offering a towel to Alana, who just pulls herself up and out onto the small deck there and then walks towards them, Morgan skidding back over to Margot, sliding into her lap, loudly demanding she continue to read.   
Margot rolls her eyes a bit at him in mock exasperation and does so, her voice ringing smoky and yet clear through the air, the very picture so domestic it hurts. Will turns to Alana when she stops before them, dripping a bit still, hair up in a bun and towel clasped to her chest, gaze unflinching and yet a bit peeved, looking much better than the last time they had seen her. 

Will draws his brows together, shaking his head, indicating them all with a wave of his hand.

„What are you doing here?!?“

Alana purses her lips, eyes cool and yet not totally unfriendly and she takes a moment, considering. 

„It’s been two months… our marital problems were more severe than we thought, so we went and got everything ready for that sabbatical. We got here last Friday.“

Will opens and closes his mouth like a fish, closing it with an audible click when he realizes he does so. He clears his throat, rephrasing his question, a small part of him enjoying Hannibals apparent stupefaction next to him.

„Ok, what are you doing here playing house and how did you find us?“

Alana tilts her head, sighing softly and then she smirks, a true little smile, transforming her whole face.

„You’re not the only ones with connections, Will. We knew you were somewhere around here, so we had all the purchases and social ties checked. Ultimately it was a coincidence though. Imagine our surprise when one of the very distinguished ladies we interviewed for Morgans homeschooling started to enthuse about the splendid dinner parties at that farm with that Zulu name, thrown by two gentlemen who were always so utterly charming.“

Will closes his eyes, forcing the annoyed mirth down, feeling Hannibal freeze even further next to him. The dinner parties. Of fucking course. Even without cannibal puns they raise way too many red flags. He shoots a sideway glance at Hannibal, taking note of the strain in his neck. His father steps up to them and Alana extends her hand, a genuine smile on her face.

„Steven, how good to see you!“

His dad takes her hand, shaking it carefully, barging right in with the actually important question.

„And you, my dear. Hope you and you’re family are alright. So, what’s happening now?“

Alana smile turns a bit strained, and she fidgets a bit, looking over to where all three dogs are playing in the grass. Her voice is soft and yet resolute when she answers, spunk at the fore, and Will admires her for it.

„We’re here to honor our agreement. We need to be close for that anyway. And this place…“

She pauses, looking around with a small sigh, before locking gazes with Will again.

„… this place is beautiful and rather secluded, befitting it’s name. And with more than enough room. We kept the apartment in Port Elizabeth and will check there from time to time but… I hope we can salvage something akin to… careful companionship… over time. Because…“

She pauses again, swallowing. Her gaze flits to Hannibal and then settles again on Will.

„Because I, or better -we- want them to be half siblings. Which is why we’re here, to build this. Somehow.“

She fidgets and Will gasps quietly, all the air gone suddenly, possibilities and ‚what ifs‘ exploding in his mind. He shakes his head as if to clear it, Hannibal joining in finally, tone cold.

„Who is it that hunts us now?“

Alana shakes her head, looking a bit unsettled though mostly amused.

„That is the actual weirdest thing, Hannibal, isn’t it. We are not and neither is anybody else. Not actively. You’re not even in the Top 10 anymore, more recent threats have taken your place. Must be hard on the ego.“

Will cannot help the wry smirk at the little jab, hand coming up to stop Hannibal before he even can think about anything. He reaches into himself and makes himself look past the front, past her huge blue eyes. He looks at her, sees the broken jabs of her, healed again, slowly, the sliver of trust they somehow managed to build in the prison cultivated and nourished by time and Wills actions, age and her family the triggers to go through with this transformation, to turn a blind eye, this time, at the last.

Will sighs quietly through his nose, adrenaline leaving him, a bone deep exhaustion running through him in its wake and he steps forward, ignoring the sudden tension in Hannibal. Alana freezes for a moment as well, but he ignores it, too, softly embracing her, head lowering onto her shoulder. She relaxes into him after a moment, a shuddering breath between them, her wet hair tickling his face. Will smiles, his voice calm and relieved.

„Welcome, then, to our farm, Alana.“

He swallows, finally allowing the feelings so long hidden away and locked up tight with all the disastrous events between them flood back. He pulls back, a watery smile on his lips, brutally honest.

„I’ve missed you.“


	7. Chapter 7

Will quietly enters their bedroom, leaning back against the door, rolling his neck. Hannibal is at the desk, writing some kind of journal with a feather quill of all things, looking positively ancient in a single candles light. Will clears his throat, drumming his fingers against the door behind him once.

„We missed you at the table…“

Nothing. Will grinds his teeth, increasingly annoyed and still oh so tired. They had had some coffee that afternoon after their initial meeting, a weird calm atmosphere filled with smalltalk between them. Well smalltalk between most of them because Hannibal had left after a moment and Will had sighed, deeply, ignoring it though, waving it off when Alana raised her alarmed eyes to his. His father and Margot had fallen into an easy rapport after and he and Alana had soaked the atmosphere up, their dogs and Morgan playing together in the low afternoon sun.

Will had made grilled cheese for all of them for dinner, with a side salad, utterly glad that the Vergers had apparently restocked their kitchen. The wine had been fantastic. And now… Will pushes himself off the door, preparing himself for the backlash, slowly stepping forward. Hannibal stops him, feather quill still scratching on the paper, his voice low and yet steely.

„Do you know, Will, why I had the stairs in my kitchen in Baltimore removed and rebuilt so I could then build a pantry there?“

Will shakes his head, his voice tired, yet not wanting to let this pass.

„And the other rooms… No.“

Hannibal inclines his head in acknowledgment, tipping the quill into a little ink pot.

„I needed those… other rooms closer so I would spend less time traveling back and forth for my… art. I wished to have more time for traveling back and forth to you.“

Will swallows but waits, intrigued, trying to hear past the words.

„Even then I changed my life because in some way I already knew you would change mine.“

Hannibal puts a final dot on the line, carefully putting the quill back in it’s hold and he hesitates and then blows the candle out, sudden darkness falling across the room. Wills heart takes up speed, but he refuses to budge. He keeps his voice low.

„This wasn’t a possible outcome of your various trains of thought, was it, Hannibal.“

Hannibal raises and turns, his dark silhouette against the starlit window imposing, crossbeams framing his head and shoulders and Will doesn’t need his empathy or imagination to see the beast this time. The wendigo stares back at him, eyes twinkling, teeth flashing in the dark. Will takes a step forward, refusing to be intimidated. He raises his chin, tone challenging, arms and hands spread out.

„This is it, Hannibal. This is our best possible world. And yes. I think you deserve this, with me, with them.“

There is a snarl and Will knows he has hit gold, the moment in front of the motel back in a flash, and Will repeats the words spoken there softly.

„I dare you to believe in something light and beautiful coming from our dark union. I dare you to believe that I am deserving of this. I dare you to believe that -you- are.“

He hesitates and then continues, softly.

„I’m forcing you with tenderness.“

He steps forward again, right up to Hannibal and then reaches up, slowly, hands going into his hair. Will pulls himself up, closes the last few inches, a shudder running through Hannibal when their lips touch. Will whispers against them, suddenly giddy, humor coloring the words.

„Just imagine… we will be even more tired than we are now!“

There is a huff of air and then Hannibal breaks and pulls him into an embrace that hurts with its intensity, joints creaking with the pressure.   
Will ignores it and concentrates on soothing the wild thing in his arms, clawing so desperately at the sun.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That "had a go" is paraphrased from a cut scene (via the script) - in case you're wondering^^.

Will stumbles into the kitchen the next morning in boxers and t-shirt, limbs aching and back bruised and scratched, yawning reaching for a cup of coffee. He almost drops it, when her voice rings out, kind and yet inflicted with sarcasm, as always.

„Good morning sunshine, your father told me you had the bedrooms soundproofed. By the way you look I am just glad he was right.“

She leans closer, eyes sparkling.

„A shame really, I bet the two of you sound hot together, even if one is… otherwise inclined.“

Will clears his throat and forces the embarrassment down, looking towards the living room where he can hear Alana, Morgan and his dad argue about something on the TV. He pours himself a coffee and then looks at Margot, deciding to give as good as he gets.

„Well, careful what you wish for, Margot, I have you know that almost every place in this house and beyond has been christened. So, you might, still.“

He shrugs innocently and then smirks at her, sipping his coffee. She gasps at him in mock outrage and then grins, lightly toasting him.

„Just do me a favor and check for Morgan. And hide the toy box, okay?“

Will grins, firing back.

„Brought yours with you?“

Margot clicks her tongue, making a show out of the consideration.

„Some…“

Will chortles and she chimes in, an easy silence falling between them after a moment. She sidles up to Will, leaning against the counter next to him.

„I am not mad, you know. All the truly fucked up things considered, it is a miracle that we’re here, now… and I cannot really fault him, for wanting your DNA to be passed on. Had a try at that myself after all.“

Will snorts wryly, and then looks at her from the side, lightly shaking his head, frowning.

„Why did you, Margot? I mean, I know -why- you wanted to get pregnant, but why on earth would you choose an ex-inmate, unstable profiler and professed loner with a drinking problem for a father?“

Margot sighs, eyebrows raised and then she bumps into him on purpose, tone grave and yet kind.

„Knew the problems and knew how to solve those. Saw the genes. Saw how you were with the dogs. And I knew your address and had an opening for conversation. That simple.“

She shoots him a look and smirks, eyes twinkling.

„And I know what you’re wondering now, and yeah, you did alright. I mean you sure had a go at being a lesbian there and if it hadn’t been for the eight dogs there, watching us, I could’ve probably really have enjoyed myself.“

Will snorts and then chuckles openly, his ‚sorry‘ not quite on the serious side.  
Margot loftily ignores him, grinning softly, and then she lightly slaps his stomach and Will smirks at her, utterly emotional by the small gesture. She indicates the bedroom with her cup, pushing herself off the counter and starting towards the living room, her voice ringing in the quiet.

„How about you wake our sleeping beauty now? I’m hungry.“

Will looks after her for a long moment, peace descending like a blanket, possibilities beckoning, brilliant as the stars. 

He breathes in - and smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-------------------------  
> \-------------------------
> 
> This is it. The main arc. Months of 'them' flitting around in my brain^^.  
> It spans 10 years and vast character development (or at least I think it does *cough*) and I truly believe their lives will change -a lot- from now on^^. There.... may be an Epilogue depicting life as a family with little kids at some point.
> 
> If you read this series I would UTTERLY LOVE to hear what you liked and maybe not so much!? 
> 
> It has been such a blast, oftentimes surprising to me as well :P and there will be more from [Hannibals POV](http://archiveofourown.org/series/530185) and little tie-ins from [Wills POV](http://archiveofourown.org/series/526567) (all will be (current) canon compliant) and I got myself into that other thing right away (gosh, thanks Bryan *sigh*), you know the [ABO-story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8332432)^^ (see that story's note as to why it's Bryans fault :P), and maybe I can do/write it even better there :).
> 
>  
> 
> ********* THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING!! **********
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments(!!!), please don't hesitate to reach out to me if you find an error or want to yell at me or something^^ (ways to do that are in my profile, or just do it here^^). 
> 
> Thank you for receiving my noobish efforts so beautifully.
> 
> *hugs you all very tightly*


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